Semper Fi
by silverwolvesarecool
Summary: Oliver is at a crossroads when trying to connect with his son and as a father advising him how to deal with bullies. He recieves a little help from an old friend.


**A big hello to all my readers!**

 **As a break from my current story, I decided to write this one shot. I hope you all enjoy it!**

* * *

Oliver took a deep breath before sliding back the door to William's room. It screeched loudly as the wheels scrapped along the metal track. He cursed and silently slapped the side of the door with the palm of his hand.

 _Damn it. I just used WD-40 on this._

William poked his head up from his math book. Obviously, he had inherited a head for excellent study skills from his mother. Oliver had to smile knowing how lousy a student he was when he was his son's age. William did not smile, but his eyes brightened slightly. Perhaps seeing his father after staring at numbers for two hours counted as a study break.

"Hey..Oliver," William shifted some of his homework papers to the side but did not relinquish his hold on his book.

"Hi buddy," Oliver smiled brightly but did not budge from his stance in the doorway. He glanced down at his watch for a brief moment and frowned slightly, "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

"Its only eight o' three," William replied mulishly, a bit of his father's stubbornness rising towards the surface, "When's _your_ bedtime?"

Oliver ignored the jab, "When you're done, we can watch the Astro's game. They're going against the Central City Diamonds."

His son shrugged nonchalantly and turned his attention back to the math textbook, "Sure. Just...give me five minutes okay?"

Oliver smiled and stepped out briefly to check his watch again. The hands indeed read eight, but he knew how far behind his watch was. He sighed and quickly adjusted the knob so that the correct time was displayed. He frowned again, knowing that the time was correct and yet it was not. The watch still read eight o' clock.

The moment the second hand was on 8:05, the clock went right back to eight. Oliver blinked, knowing that it was impossible for the watch to switch back that quickly; if go back at all. He glanced around the room, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. Something tapped him on the shoulder, and he whipped around to see...nothing. Some papers fluttered slightly in the corner. There were no open windows, which made the movement even more suspicious. Warily, he wrapped his hand around the handle of a kitchen knife, and moved towards the papers.

"You are so full of paranoia even now Ollie," a voice snorted behind him.

Oliver's instincts took over and he spun flinging the knife as he did. Barry materialized to the side of him with a wide grin on his face; the knife still quivering in his hand from its sudden stop. He was decked out in his classic red and yellow suit. It had received a major upgrade; the red was brighter and there were thicker and more gold lines arching across the material. Oliver remained speechless for a moment, unable to contemplate the fact that his friend had dropped by unannounced and in one piece.

"What?" the speedster smirked, "Cat got your tongue?" He dangled the watch in front of his friend's face, having swiped it off his wrist without Oliver's knowledge, "I think your watch is behind on time. And you claim I'm _always_ late."

"Give me that!" Oliver snapped, snatching at the watch only to have it appear to the left side of him, still in the speedster's possession. He had known about Barry's return for a while now; Cisco had called him once they had the situation under control—apparently Barry come back a tad bit crazy, "So you finally decided to tell me you're alive in person?"

Barry shrugged and the watch suddenly reappeared on Oliver's wrist without the speedster not even moving from his spot—or at least to the archer's point of view.

"I've been busy," the speedster admitted. He vanished for a moment, only to reappear on the kitchen table with his lanky legs draped over the edge. The knife was back in its storage block, "So how's it goin?" He swung his feet back and forth like a kid, taking care not to bang the back of his shoes on the wood and leave soot marks.

"Is it just me or have you gotten faster?" Oliver asked accusingly, as he turned to face the speedster, "Before I was able to make out a least one spot of color moving."

His friend grinned, "More or less. Must say...dig the new apartment."

"Its not mine," Oliver grounded out, but he couldn't help but smile back, "Glad to see you in one piece."

"So the big scary archer is actually has feelings," Barry laughed. When he moved again, Oliver was able to see the briefest glimpse of red and gold lighting. The speedster reappeared, leaning against a support pillar in the room. He still had his mask on, perhaps an effort to cover up the forming dark circles under his eyes. Apparently catching up on crime in his city was taking a toll.

"Could you please quit moving?"

"Sorry," Barry said apologetically, "If you're not going to talk about your life...can I ask...how's the mutual fan that I bought that backpack for?"

Oliver knew what he was asking.

"He's doing...well. Just has some troubles with some bullies at school and—"

There was a soft sound, and a flicker of movement out of the corner of Oliver's eye. He turned and spotted William standing in the middle of the kitchen. The boy's eyes were as wide as saucer's as they jumped from both Barry then to Oliver, then back to Barry.

"W-W-What's the Flash d-d-d-doing here?" William sputtered.

Barry smiled and gave him a friendly wave, only to put the hand down when Oliver glared at him. The speedster's friendly smile did not vanish however, and Oliver resisted the urge to strangle his friend.

"Remember that friend I said gave me the backpack as a gift for you..." the archer said slowly trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice, "Well...this may...or not...be...him."

"Smooth," Barry muttered. He ignored the dirty look and found interest in the ceiling lamp.

"You...know the Flash...I remember you telling me last year," William said slowly as if speaking in syllables, "But how...?"

"Long story," Oliver admitted, "But...he does come to visit every once in a while and...helps..."

He heard Barry snickering, and stiffened up as he prepared for the zinger that was sure to follow. Surprisingly, the speedster did not say anything. Instead, he smiled warmly and flashed over to the spot at the right of William. The papers resting on the table flew everywhere and drifted to the ground. To the boy's credit, he did not even flinch.

"Your dad's pretty cool," Barry said, "Except when he tries to strangle me."

Oliver glowered at him, but William grinned.

"You're back," the boy said, "Where were you the past six months?"

"Here and there, and er...everywhere," the speedster shrugged, "Heard you've been having troubles at school. You okay?" He vanished, only to reappear one the sofa again with an apple in hand. Where he had gotten the apple, Oliver had no clue. Resa always had a few on hand for William, which probably explained it.

"Yeah..." William shifted his feet shyly and avoided Oliver's gaze, "It's no biggie. I've got it under control."

"Let me guess," Barry took a bite out of the apple, spraying juice all over the place. He chewed for a moment before pointing to Oliver, "He told you to punch their lights out." William nodded slowly, with slight surprise decorating his young features.

"Flash..." Oliver said warningly . As usual, the speedster ignored him.

"He tried training me," Barry said causally, making a perfect three-point shot in the trashcan with the remains of the apple, "As his other, much more foreboding half. One of the reasons I know. Word of advice...when he breaks out the bow and arrow say no to the training."

William turned his head halfway so that he could view both his father and his idol, "He _knows_?"

The archer sighed heavily, "Yes. A word Flash. _In_ private."

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Barry's arm and dragged him into the smaller adjacent room, hoping that William would know better than to eavesdrop.

"Why are you here?" he asked calmly, releasing his friend.

"I wanted to check in," Barry grumbled rubbing the sore spot on his arm, "See how you were doing after that close call with the FBI."

"I'm fine," Oliver assured him before frowning slightly, "Have they ever expressed any interest in you?"

"Nah," the speedster waved him off, "I'm too fast. The one FBI guy who tried coming to find out more about me, left in tears. He suffered a nervous breakdown after clashing with a Meta who had water manipulation abilities. So far they haven't sent anyone else."

"Lucky you," the archer grumbled slightly envious, "How's Iris taking it?"

"She's the one who sent me over," Barry admitted rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "To see whether or not the rumors were true. Which means, Cisco owes me twenty bucks."

Oliver sighed heavily and massaged his brow. He appreciated that his friend cared enough to come check up on him. But he sooner or later his luck would run out, and it would not matter how fast Barry was; he would not be able to save him from this. Almost as if Barry knew what he was thinking, the man spoke.

"Hey," he said softly, "No one is going to lock you up when I'm around okay?"

"It's not that," Oliver spoke half-truthfully, "It's that...I'm temporarily giving up the Green Arrow."

Barry whistled, "Whoa. That's gotta be tough. Something tells me it has to do with William huh?" He glanced over Oliver's shoulder and had mirth twinkle in his eyes, "He's obviously inherited his eavesdropping skills from you."

Oliver turned sharply, "What are you doing? This is adult talk."

William drew himself up in an effort to appear intimidating; something that he had not yet mastered successfully, "Nothing. I just wanted...to tell Flash something."

Barry materialized in front of the boy, who took a few steps back to prevent being buffeted by the winds, "What is it kid?"

"Its just..." he broke off and bit his lip. Oliver knew he was trying to apologize for giving up on heroes, especially on his idol.

Something close to understanding flickered in Barry's eye and he knelt down so he could look William in the eye. The archer was amazed. Since his return from God knows where, the speedster had...changed. He seemed more at peace with himself, and firmer with his steps. He even managed to be serious even though his cocky, good-nature self was back. Barry had grown up _a lot_.

"I understand kid," the speedster spoke, firmly grasping William by his shoulders and staring at him right in the eyes, "It is hard to keep faith in your heroes." Briefly, Barry's eyes slid over to Oliver before going back to the boy, "But, even despite our mistakes we're here for you."

William's bottom lip quivered, "No one was there for my...my mom."

Oliver saw Barry's back stiffen. Even though it seemed that the speedster had come to terms with his mother's death, it still seemed to be apart of him; a shadow that lurked in the background.

"Let me tell you something kid," Barry said softly and firmly, "Never...ever...give up hope. Heroes come and go, but there will always be other heroes to come up to take their place and protect people like you." He paused for a moment before adding, "We're _Semper Fi_."

"What does that mean?" William sniffed and wiped his eyes, "Semper Fi?"

"Always faithful," Oliver said with a small smile, "You borrowed that from some war movie didn't you?"

"No," Barry glared at him for a moment, "Way to kill the moment dude." He looked back, "We will always be there for people like you. Don't forget that."

William smiled slightly through the tears that were coming down his face but he nodded. He suddenly wrapped his arms around Barry's neck and drew him in for a tight hug. The speedster startled for a moment, flinched. Lighting sparked off his arms and left scorch marks seared into the floorboards. But, he got over his surprise, and wrapped his arm around the boy. He looked up and reached one arm out; a smirk decorating his face.

"Come on. Group hug Grumpy."

Oliver rolled his eyes, but ended up hugging them anyways; Barry obviously had something to do with it. Oliver heard a faint chime from Barry's headset and heard an incoherent message being spoken. The speedster suddenly stood up and gave William a snappy salute.

"Got to go you guys," he said with a smile pointing to the lighting bolt on his right ear, "Chaos a-callin."

He dashed off, leaving behind a camp fire smell and a piece of paper with his signature scrawled on the surface. William snatched it up before it could fly up into the air vent. Slowly, he pocketed the scrap as if it would burn him if he moved too quickly.

"Well," Oliver said smiling as best as he could, "Guess watching the Astro's game will be no where as interesting as what just happened huh buddy?"

The boy only nodded slowly before ambling over to his room to clean up the mess the speedster's exit had left in his wake.

* * *

"Come on wimp. Hit me," Tony Sanchez snapped, abruptly shoving William in the chest.

The smaller boy hit the ground hard, sending up a cloud of dirt and a gash on his elbow. Tony and his other eighth grade friends snickered, hoping for a response from the the sixth grader. Their victim remained silent even as the bullies silently began to chant "fight, fight, fight". The intonation grew faster and faster until it was blurred into one response. There were no teachers around, and Oliver had not yet arrived to pick William up.

The boy gently touched the paper in his pant's pocket for some comfort. He knew his dad would be glad if he sent the group packing. Rage was already building up in his lungs and in his fists. But he knew that fighting back would end badly for all of them.

"I'm not going to fight you," he responded slowly getting to his feet. Trying to sound brave was hard as fear trembled in his throat but he managed to heft his backpack like a club.

"Why not?" Tony asked scornfully, "Because your daddy the Green Arrow isn't here to save you?"

"You already know he isn't the vigilante," William's stomach burned from the lie but he managed to keep his voice steady as he and the bully began to circle one another, "I'm not going to fight you because you have a bone to pick with him."

"My dad does," Tony growled his hands tightening into fists, "The Green Arrow put him in the hospital because he was caught selling drugs. Seems only fair that I beat up his whelp."

He lunged and William closed his eyes and flinched as he prepared for the bully's fist against his face. But the blow did not come. It was dead silent as the cronies quieted. William slowly opened his eyes, and found the playground was deserted. He was alone in the parking lot only with his backpack hanging uselessly at his side.

"Bullies are a pain aren't they?"

William spun around, nearly jumping out of his skin. The Flash stood arms crossed and calmly leaning against the side of a car, looking as content as the cat that swallowed the canary.

"You okay kid?"

"I can fight my own fights you know," the boy grumbled dusting his pants off, "My dad didn't have to tell you to fight them for me."

The Flash cocked his head to the side, "He didn't. I did it on my own."

"Why?" William demanded before scoffing slightly, "Don't tell me. You had bullies when you were my age."

"I did," the speedster smirked slightly at the kid's startled expression, "Please. All heroes start from somewhere."

"Then how did you handle them?"

The Flash stood for a moment pondering the statement. When he spoke, he had appeared behind William who turned around to look at him.

"I ran."

"You...ran," William wore a crooked smile on his face, "That's hardly surprising. You suggesting I do the same?"

"No," the Flash shrugged, "Sometimes...I didn't get too far. Other times I did. It...er...didn't really work for me."

His smile shrank slightly.

"Then what should I do?" William asked in a troubled voice.

The speedster smiled and placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. William could hear the man's heart beating steadily in his chest and could feel the electricity crackling off him.

"Stand up or simply walk away," the Flash said dropping his hand, "Fighting isn't always a solution." He smirked slightly as if thinking of a private joke, "Though. I don't think he'll bother you after this."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see," the speedster winked and disappeared. William could barely hear the message he had spoken before leaving, "Stay in school kid. Good luck."

For a moment, William stood there silently wondering if the whole exchange had been a mirage. He soon found out it was not, when he crossed the playground to get to his father's waiting limousine. There were a row of trees lining the side walk, and one of them, Tony was hanging by his underwear. His three friends were deposited at the top most branches and where clinging on for dear life.

"H-H-Hey W-W-William," Tony managed to grab a hold of a branch above his head as the fabric of his undergarments began to tear, "N-N-No h-hard feelings right p-p-pal?"

"Nope," William tried to keep the smile off his face.

He opened the door to the car.

"S-S-So...y-you know t-the Flash?" Tony asked as the branch began to bend and crack.

"Yeah," William shrugged the smile beginning to overpower his pockerface, "He and I are tight."

"B-But how?" the branch began to crackle and snap.

William drew himself up to his full height, and in a perfect intimidation of his father's confident and cool mannerism said dryly, "Its a long story."

He barely managed to slide into the car and shut the door before the branch broke completely sending Tony straight into a bush below the tree. Giggles threatened to spill driver of the limousine—Marcus—lowered his dark sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and whistled.

"Why was that boy hanging like that?"

"Don't know," William avoided his father's suspicious gaze and smiled slightly, "He was like then when I came out here."

Marcus shook his head and flipped his turning signal on to move the vehicle into moving traffic. Chris, who was in the front passenger seat, pulled the dividing window up to give father and son privacy. The moment the lock clicked, Oliver asked with a smile creeping onto his face.

"I don't even want to know do I?"

"In all honestly Oliver," William face cracked as the laughter spilled out, "You really don't."

His father flashed him a warm smile and for the first time, the boy felt a wave of love pour into his heart. Perhaps, he could learn to love his father after all.

* * *

 **Fin**


End file.
